gabriellaswritingcorner.wordpress.com

jaywalkingthemoon.wordpress.com

i haven’t counted all the bruises on my body yet | jaywalking the moon

https://jaywalkingthemoon.wordpress.com/2015/07/04/i-havent-counted-all-the-bruises-on-my-body-yet

Poetry by claudia schoenfeld. Biking home from the brass festival under a three quarter moon/ and if i have the choice, i prefer sparkling water over wine. I always dreamed of being a vessel for a pile of lime seeds →. I haven’t counted all the bruises on my body yet. July 4, 2015. Little rest by the river on my bikeride back from work… crazy hot here. about 40 C/104 F. Inside the jet stream channel, the world blurs. Into a rainbow —. A heavy pregnant ball, sunDrops,. 8212;—–. I let it carry me. I pull h...

karenismuttering.blogspot.com

muttering: Trifecta Week Eighty Six - Fat is a Fact Word

http://karenismuttering.blogspot.com/2013/07/trifecta-week-eighty-six-fat-is-fact.html

This is an exercise in getting going, and letting go. July 18, 2013. Trifecta Week Eighty Six - Fat is a Fact Word. This is my entry for this week's Trifecta Writing Challenge. As usual, we are using the third definition of a word selected by those relentless Trifecta editors. This week's word is crack. 3a : a narrow break : fissure. B : a narrow opening —used figuratively in phrases like fall through the cracks to describe one that has been improperly or inadvertently ignored or left out. 8220;Guys, fat...

oursunshines.wordpress.com

Writing – Our Sun Shines

https://oursunshines.wordpress.com/about

Writing is an expression. It’s an art. I value writing greatly, like it’s a part of my life. In fact, it is a big part of everyone’s life. The question is how big a part? I cannot say I write incredibly well, but I guess it is of a fair standard, i don’t know, you tell me :). That’s what I love about writing! It’s so free and expressive! Like what I said- Writing is an art! But instead of paint and brush, it’s ink and parchment… or in this case, keyboard and computer. 13 thoughts on “ Writing. I admire w...

oursunshines.wordpress.com

Catching (growing) up – Our Sun Shines

https://oursunshines.wordpress.com/2016/08/03/catching-growing-up

August 3, 2016. How’s everybody been? I cannot believe it’s been more than a year since i’ve last posted here on Our Sun Shines, that is ridiculous! Let me elaborate in a bit more detail and in perhaps a bit less of a glamorous way haha! Well I’ve promised myself, that I’m going to make every year, every DAY. Itself first. Finding peace within myself and finding a pace that suits me. I still challenge myself and strive to be the best I can be, I still take on sports and dance and leadership and s...4 way...

everyonelisten.com

Bridge | Everyone Listen

https://everyonelisten.com/2014/10/29/bridge

Thoughts of a Devotional Nature by Robert J. Gerryts (Twitter: @RGerryts). Her Strength Is Her Love. No Louder Than This. No Need for Romans. The King of Doubt. Cracks in the Clay. Light from the Mountain. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 37 other followers. Subscribe in a reader. 2:10 Brain full. Now what? Been thinking a lot lately about the hidden burdens people carry. everyonelisten.com/2013/09/19/bri. October 29, 2014. Better to build...

dontopendontthrowaway.blogspot.com

... don't open ... don't throw away ...: Un-Spun Crazy

http://dontopendontthrowaway.blogspot.com/2013/06/un-spun-crazy.html

Don't open . don't throw away . This letting of words is my treatment.my salvation. it pulls all the toxins from my mind, body, and soul. With Just a Touch. Diary of an Anorexic Love Life. My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,. Like the Feathers of an Arrow. Affectionately known as LFA). Don't open.don't throw away. Is not disappearing completely (not yet),. But postings here will be limited. Friday, June 14, 2013. Life's been crazy—. Life's been crazy—.

mishunderstood.wordpress.com

Dog Days | mishunderstood

https://mishunderstood.wordpress.com/2015/08/06/dog-days

Skip to main content. Skip to secondary content. Photography, poetry and ponderings of life. Weekly Photo Challenge: Close Up. Weekly Photo Challenge: Beneath Your Feet →. August 6, 2015. Give me those dog days of summer. Sweet corn, salt and peppered. Butter dripping down chins. It beats those ice crackling. Snow shoveling minus 20 winds. Show me your plum pickin’. Rib stickin’ watermelon. I’ll dip my tutti frutti toes. In nippy waters, shin deep. Sketch my dreams in the sand. Before sailing off to sleep.

dversepoets.com

Poetics: The Book of Dead Man | dVerse

https://dversepoets.com/2014/11/04/poetics-the-book-of-dead-man

Poetics: The Book of Dead Man. Asymp; 73 Comments. The Book of the Dead. Growing up in my native land, November 2 and 3 are marked with going to church and praying for the dead. This is the time cemeteries are filled with people, flowers, chairs and tents. Despite the solemn occasion, there is a festive air as family members gather bringing candles and food. On the downside, you can imagine the horrible traffic, trash and the noise during the weekend. I sometimes wonder what the dead have to say? He will...

mommydourest.blogspot.com

Mommy Dourest: Playing Dirty

http://mommydourest.blogspot.com/2013/07/playing-dirty.html

Show Me Some Love! If you enjoy my blog, please click the flashing link above to vote for me as a top mommy blogger. No strings attached. Just one little click = a vote. Thank you mucho! Tuesday, July 2, 2013. Finding Josh was easy. Race results were posted on the mud run website within a week. In a matter of hours, Lauren had located his Facebook profile, Twitter account and a mention of him in an article about the magic camp he’d attended 17 years ago. Probably just needs closure. Lauren lay beside Jos...

bonniejtoomey.com

siblings playing | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/tag/siblings-playing

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. Tag Archives: siblings playing. May 13, 2015. We unearth old bottles, the unbroken one. Our treasure – suddenly bees bubble up. Bursting behind us as we fly out of the woods. Elbows and knees pump,. Ramparts of open air can’t hold back the picadors. We said it must’ve been your flaxen hair,. Flashing like a matador’s cape. Dad scoops mud, smooth and cool. In his mason-rough hands. He hums low, soothes your stinging welts,.